


Way Down Hadestown

by luckypennyy



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: M/M, also i'll prob put some background ships in there like deniall, basically its like a hades/persephone thing but with simon and baz so, for my DARLING MAE HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONEY ILYYY, i should update regularly but at this point idk, i'll try not to do angst but if i do i'll let yall know, pls dont hate me if its bad skskskaj, probably some cursing, so this is basically my first fic oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckypennyy/pseuds/luckypennyy
Summary: Simon has lived his entire life hearing stories about Watford, a mysterious place that supposedly grants asylum to "lost souls." When he finally finds it, he meets Baz Pitch, who apparently owns Watford and, while begrudgingly, grants Simon entrance into Watford. Inside, he is introduced to a fantastical and new world, and just maybe finding true love along the way





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mae1505](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mae1505/gifts).



> I remember fields  
> Of flowers, soft beneath my heels

“Way down, Hadestown, way down under the ground…”  
SIMON   
I stare at the cast iron gates. I’ve finally done it. I’ve finally found Watford.  
I reach out a hand and touch the intricate ironwork, amazed at the complexity of the design. I’ve been searching for Watford for years, following crazy conspiracy threads online and old wives’ tales. A safe haven, a place for people in need of harbor. Ever since Mum had told me about it late one night, in an attempt to get me to sleep, I’ve been obsessed. See, to her, it was just a bedtime story. Nothing more. But to me, it was everything.   
The thought of Watford got me through some hard times. It kept me sane. Whenever Davy flew into one of his rages, I would hide in my room, drawing the towers and buildings. I knew each one by heart, having stumbled upon a plan of the grounds a while before. And for so long, I clung to the hope that I could escape, could find Watford, be free.   
And I’m finally here.  
Lost in thought, I almost don’t notice when the gate swings open. There’s a glowing spot where my hand was. I try to ignore it, and take a look around.  
Ivy creeps over the weathered stone wall. There are patches of dead and dying grass all around the lawn, and no life to be seen anywhere. I take a careful step inside the gate, and it swings shut behind me. Not ominous at all. There’s a small path leading off to the right, and I decide to follow it. What could go wrong?  
The trail leads to a small garden, or rather, what had once been a garden. Now it’s just an overgrown tangle of weeds and thorny bushes. But it still has a sort of wandering beauty, within the rampant chaos. It’s alive, this garden. Through the overgrowth, I can sense the small flowers, buried in the ground, wanting to sprout. Gently, I lay a hand on a small clear patch of ground.  
Slowly, cautiously, tiny blue and yellow flowers began to bloom. At first, they remained in the ground by my hand, but soon began to spread throughout the garden. I look around in amazement as the garden blossoms before me. Birds began to chirp, and I can see some of the tangled overgrowth turning a pale shade of green and—  
Suddenly, the flowers stop. I feel it, somewhere deep inside me. They begin to wilt. Their magical signatures, which were strong a second ago, fade away. I look around, trying to determine the reason for this when I meet someone’s eyes. A boy, about my age. He’s standing utterly still, as if he doesn’t move, I somehow won’t see him. It obviously doesn’t work.  
“Uh, hi,” I say. Like a complete idiot. Simon, you bumbling numpty, that’s it? ‘Hi?’ Great job, now he’ll think you’re a total imbecile. “Are you the—”  
“You brought the garden back to life.” He’s staring intently at me. “How? It was dead.” I take in his posh clothes and sullen face.  
“Well, I mean the dead part was probably your fault. It looks as if no one has been here for at least months. I just gave it some love, and bam.” Oh my god, what am I saying? Why am I being so rude? I mean, to be fair, the boy didn’t even manage a hello, just jumped right in.  
He stiffens, taking in my words, and I feel a little guilty. However, the guilt is soon overpowered by my curiosity. “So, who are you, anyway?”  
“My name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.” Christ, he has so many names he sounds like one of those dead Russian tsars. “You may call me Baz.”  
“Oh, may I?” I mutter. I’m trying, I swear, but this- this Baz sounds like such a wanker. “So,” I say, a bit louder, “do you, um, live here or something?”  
He raises his eyebrows at me.   
Merlin, this prick is annoying. Maybe he didn’t hear me? “Uh, I said-”  
“I heard you. And yes, I do live here. In fact, I own this place, ‘or something,’” Baz replies mockingly.  
“Um, well, I guess since you’re the owner and everything, you’d be the-”  
“Christ’s sake, use your words, whatever your name is.” I realize I haven’t told him my name and immediately flush bright red.  
“Snow- I mean, Simon, I mean-”  
“Snow? What kind of a name is Snow?” He laughs.  
“My mum named me. Davy wanted to give me a ‘normal’ name, so there’s Simon, obviously. But my mum was super sentimental, and said I reminded her of her da, who was born in November. The funny thing is, I was born in July, so-”  
“Get on with it already!” Baz exclaims. “Snow, Simon, I don’t care what your name is, just tell me why you’re at my house and why it’s apparently so important that you talk to me.”  
“I’m seeking, uh, oh, shit, what’s the word? Uh, asylum! Yeah, it’s like that thing where-”  
“I know what asylum is, Snow.” So he can use my name. Or, at least, one of my names. “Why do you need it, and why on Earth are you seeking it here, of all places?” He tilts his head, waiting for some kind of answer from me. But the words won’t come out.  
How do I explain it to him? How do I convey all that Watford means to me? It’s the one constant in my life. Through everything with Davy and the countless homes, Watford’s always been there. In stories, where it reminded me that I was not alone. In tales whispered late at night, when everyone else was asleep, and I would convince myself that everything was alright, everything would be fine, just keep going one day at a time, and then the next and the next and the next until one day I would find Watford, and live safe and happy, away from the reach of Davy and the Coven and…  
I realize I still haven’t answered Baz. I don’t know how to tell him all this without seeming odd, so I just shrug and say, “First place I found. The gate just opened, not sure how. S’posed it’d be as good a place as any. That is, if you’ll let me stay?” I give him a pleading glance. Low, I know, but Mum always did say I had the most ‘heartwarming’ eyes. And I guess she was right, because after a moment, Baz sighs and turns around, striding out of the garden. He turns, and gives me a questioning look.  
“Well? Do you want to stay or not?”  
And so I follow him into the ivy-covered building. Watford.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then I turned away,  
> Into the shade

SIMON  
I gaze around me as we walk inside the building. I’ve dreamed of this, of actually being at Watford for so long that it’s hard to grasp that I really am here. I mean, I was technically inside Watford as soon as I walked inside the gate, but this feels so much more official.  
Baz stops walking suddenly, and I almost run into him. “Ticket,” he says, holding out a rectangular stub of paper. I’m not quite sure why I need a ticket here, but I take it anyway, figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry. Also Baz is a little intimidating, so I get the feeling I should probably do what he says.  
I examine the ticket closer, turning it over in my hands. It’s fancier than it looks, made of a thick cardstock and embossed with a shimmering seal.The letters inscribed around the outer rim of the seal are illegible; they almost seem like they're moving, dancing around the insignia I stare at them pointedly. The letters look like no alphabet I’ve ever seen. When I look up, Baz is already several strides ahead of me. I hurry to catch up.  
We walk past several closed doors. I desperately want to ask what’s behind them, but Baz doesn’t say anything. This silence is becoming unbearable.  
“So, uh, what do you do for fun?” I cringe internally. I sound so stupid.  
Baz glances back at me, an unreadable look on his face. Maybe pity? “Play my violin, read, talk to the other residents. There’s not really much to do here.”  
“Hold on, there are other residents?” From the look of the grounds, it seemed as though no one else had been here for a very long time.  
He sighs. “Of course there are other residents, Snow. People other than you exist.”  
“That’s not what I-”  
“Right then, here we are.” He gestures to one of the closed doors. “It’s right next to my room, but if you need anything, don’t ask me. I don’t like to be bothered and I don’t have time for your stupidity.” My mouth falls open. What a prick.  
“Insert your ticket into the door, it’ll bring up a console and you can input your preferred security settings. Whether you want a key, room card, automated…”  
Baz keeps talking, but I’m already messing with the door. Sure enough, a small window pops up and asks me what security options I want. I linger over the room card, but finally select the key option. A bronze key materializes and the window dissipates. The key hangs in mid-air, and I reach out and take it. It’s not old or elegant like I had imagined, but rather modern. It looks like it should open some fancy apartment in the city rather than my room.  
“Alright then, I’ll be off. If you need something, ask Vera, she can help you. Dinner is at 6, if you miss it, not my problem. Be nice to Pritchard, and do not go into the Catacombs. At all.” I don’t even know what catacombs are, but they seem important, so I make a mental note to find out.  
“Meet me downstairs for breakfast at 8 o’clock, we need to go over the details of your stay here. You’re not required to interact with the other residents, but you will see them around. Don’t be rude. Don’t start anything. Night.”  
And with that, Baz stalks off down the hallway. Well, what to do now? I turn back to the door and find that there’s now a doorknob. It seems to match my key, so I insert it and turn the knob. I push the door open and gaze at my new room.  
It’s fairly simple. There’s a bed with a light blue bedsheet and yellow pillows. A bookshelf stands in the corner. As I look around, the room seems to unfold. The bookshelf fills with books. Tiny flowers embroider themselves onto the bedclothes and pillowcases. A wardrobe appears in the wall, clothes already hanging inside it. I stare in amazement. Magic. It’s been so long since I’ve seen any but my own, and I’d almost forgotten what it was like.  
There’s a window next to the bed that I didn’t notice before. Crowley, it probably wasn’t even there until I noticed it.   
I can see the gardens from here. A few of my flowers still remain, but most are dead or gone. It’s a sad sight. Maybe Baz will let me work in the gardens. Clearly no one else does, and it’s such a shame that they were allowed to become like they are now, all overgrown and wild. I suppose there is a sort of beauty to them, but they desperately need care.   
The sun is setting over the wall, and I suddenly realize how tired I am. It’s been a long day. The train station, walking for hours through the woods, finding the wall. I had to walk at least half the circumference before I found the gate. All my fatigue seems to be catching up with me.  
I take a look in the wardrobe and pick out a pair of trainers and a gray t-shirt. I clamber into bed and pull the covers over myself. It’s soft, and I can feel myself falling asleep already. The soft chirping of insects outside the window is lulling me to sleep. I push away my thoughts of Baz and the gardens aside. They can wait till morning.  
~~~  
I start awake, reaching for my alarm clock, but there is none. I look around the room for some kind of clock, but there’s nothing. Am I late? Baz said I was supposed to meet him at 8. From the looks of the sky outside the window, it has to be at least half past seven.  
I hurriedly get dressed, and notice that there’s another door. I open it, and it leads to a bathroom. There’re toiletries in there, so I brush my teeth as fast as I can, put my shoes on, and walk out of the room.  
As soon as I’m outside my room, I realize I have utterly no idea where I’m going. Putting my key in my pocket, I start off down the hallway. Maybe I’ll bump into another resident, and they can tell me how to get to the dining hall.  
No such luck. I’ve been walking for at least five minutes, and I’ve seen nobody. Not a soul. I’m about to try to find my way back to my room when I hear voices coming from nearby. I peek around the corner. It’s two girls. One’s tall and blonde, and wearing pretty much all pink. The other is shorter, dark-skinned, and rather chubby. She has purple hair, which I think is actually pretty cool. They’re walking away from me, and it strikes me that I need to go ask for directions. Who knows if I’ll even see anyone else.  
I jog down the hallway to catch up with them. “Um, excuse me?”  
They turn around. The purple haired girl smiles. “Hello! You must be new. I’m Penelope Bunce, and this is Agatha.”  
The blonde girl, er, Agatha, smiles too. “Agatha Wellbelove. Pleased.”  
“Uh, nice to meet you both. I’m Simon. Salisbury. Hey, would you happen to know where I should meet Baz? He said I needed to meet him for something, but I have no idea where to go.”  
“Of course. Agatha, I’ll see you later, alright?” Penelope turns to me. “The dining hall is back the way you came, but he probably means his study, which is this way.” She starts off down another hallway. I look back at Agatha, who shrugs, and follow Penelope.  
“So, Penelope-”  
“Oh, Penny is fine. No one really calls me Penelope except for Baz, and he’s just kind of formal in general, so it’s okay. Oh, sorry, I just interrupted you. I talk a lot, so if I interrupt you and you’re not done talking, just let me know.”  
“Alright, um, Penny. So, what’s it like around here?”  
“To be honest, it’s kind of quiet. There’s a library, and a movie room where we do screenings sometimes. Um, a couple former teachers are here, so if you want it to be like a school thing you can always go ask them. I wouldn’t though, their courses are rather boring. I’d much rather learn about the use of magic in ancient Greece than Latin derivatives. I guess it depends on the person though. And here we are!”  
We stop in front of a set of heavy wooden doors. I have no knowledge of different types of wood and all that, but even I can tell that they must be expensive.  
“Alright then, Simon,” she says. “Go on in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so just for the record, this isn't going to be exactly like Hadestown because I didn't really plan it that way, but there will be some aspects of it coming up. I'm not exactly sure if there will be an update schedule or whatever, but I should update pretty frequently, as summer is coming up and I'll have a lot more time to work on this. If you have any suggestions or something you like, feel free to comment! (hehehe yes give me validation.) Happy Friday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s no telling what you’re gonna do  
> When the chips are down  
> Now that the chips are down  
> What you gonna do when the chips are down?  
> Now that the chips are down

SIMON  
I push open the doors as Penny walks off. Baz is sitting at a desk, hunched over stacks of papers. He looks up, and I’m momentarily struck by the fact that he’s wearing glasses. He clears his throat, and I jolt.  
“Um, you said you wanted to see me in the morning? To discuss my, um-” I stutter.  
“The details of your stay. You’re late. Sit down.” He gestures to a chair in front of his desk and pushes his glasses up his nose. I go to pull the chair out and immediately stumble over myself. Great, I can’t even walk properly. I pick myself up from the floor, wincing.  
Baz raises his eyebrows. “Need help there?”  
“Um, no, I’ve got- goddamnit, my toe!” I’ve somehow managed to stub my toe on the desk. God. I’m really a mess today. “Okay, um, so what exactly do we need to talk ab-”  
“Right then,” Baz says. I don’t know if he realises he’s interrupted me, as he keeps talking. “So, you’ve requested asylum. Last night I didn’t have the paperwork with me, but lucky for you it’s all in my office, so we get to do that now. So, here’s the initial form. You’ll need to read over this, this, and this. Sign on the dotted lines.” I scan over the paper, but half of it I don’t even understand. I sign anyway, wanting this to be over.  
“Well, if that’s it-”  
“You’ll also need to complete these forms,” he says, placing a stack at least two centimetres thick in front of me. “Make sure to include any allergies or medical conditions. Finally, I need to know why it is you’re here.”  
I stiffen.  
I’ve literally known Baz for less than a day, I don’t really want to tell him the details of why I’ve run away from home to a place I’ve never been before.  
“I’d rather not, if that’s-”  
“It is most certainly not okay. I need to know why you’re here. We can’t have any criminals or underage runaways.”  
“Umm, well, there was some trouble at home, and-”  
“You ran away because of trouble at home? What, did your parents not give you a big enough allowance?”  
“Davy, I mean, uh, my dad,” I grimace as I say this. I haven’t called Davy my dad for years. He’s not good enough of a father. “He, well-”  
“Oh, spit it out. I don’t have time for your melodramatics.”  
I flinch.  
That’s what Davy would say.  
_“Calm down Simon, I don’t have time for your melodramatics. Go do your homework, I have actual work to do. I’ve got to support this family, because obviously neither of you care enough to get a job. I honestly don’t even know why I bother.”_  
Baz stares at me curiously, and I realize I’m cracking my knuckles again. I do it when I’m nervous. My teachers used to say that it was disruptive, that I needed to stop. But it calmed me. It’s not really working right now though.  
"Simon, are you alright?" Baz asks, a concerned look plastered on his face.  
I start to nod my head, but I can’t. I keep cracking my knuckles, trying to focus on the sound. The room feels like it’s a furnace, trying to burn me alive. Baz shifts uncomfortably, and I wonder if he feels it too. Then I realize the room actually is getting warmer. My magic is going crazy. I take deep breaths like Mum taught me. Slowly, the feeling fades, and I see Baz’s worried face in front of me.  
“Si- I mean, Snow, if you can’t tell me that’s alright. I can leave the space blank on the form.”  
“I just had something with my family. You can write that.” I look down, trying not to meet Baz’s eyes.  
“Okay. Well, you don’t have to finish that paperwork right now. Please do try to get it to me by the end of the week, so we can get your information in the system. You can go, if you’d like. I can get Vera to come show you to the dining hall. Or if you’d prefer, I can ask Pritchard to send some food to your room.”  
I don’t want to be a bother, but the idea of going to the dining hall, probably packed with people, and noise, scares me. “Um, if it’s not too much trouble, could I get some food sent to my room?”  
Baz looks at me, inquisitively. “It’s no trouble at all. You live here now, so don’t worry too much about it. I’ll get Vera to lead you back to your room.” He waves away my protests. “No, no, Snow, I just told you. Don’t worry. You’d get lost otherwise, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”  
“Yeah, I suppose not-”  
“You suppose?” He laughs, but it’s not a mean laugh. “Alright, you’re free to go.” I get up to leave.  
“Oh, and Sn- Simon?” I turn, standing in the doorway.  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m here, if you ever need to- to talk. Just- yeah. I’m here.” He says it almost awkwardly. Hmm. Awkward and Baz in the same sentence. Never thought I’d see the day. I wonder if his offer is genuine.  
“Um, okay. I’ll remember that. Uh, thanks Baz. For, well, for everything.” And with that, I leave.


End file.
